Water Reeds
by pinksnail
Summary: Arthur's father has roped him into an arranged marriage and now Alfred doubts the sincerity of his feelings, he really can't understand his fiancée and there's the problem of needing an heir. How small these problems will seem when the Great War brings ruin upon them all. Human AU.
1. Introductions of a Water Reed

**~Water Reeds~**

**Introductions of a Water Reed**

* * *

**21st of March, 1909**

Meek brown eyes rose from a small curtsy-like gesture to gaze at him shyly. He saw her lips offer a polite toothless smile and the blush that spread across her cheeks. Arthur dipped into a bow- common courtesy.

In a cheery rumble he heard his father speak, "Miss Eleanor Reed, daughter of Patrick Reed. Miss Reed, this is my son Arthur."

"It's very nice to meet you." She inclined her head again with her greeting, eyes averted to the floor and her flush becoming more prominent.

"The pleasure is mine." Arthur returned the salutation distractedly; his eyes were no longer on the girl before him.

Mr Kirkland, seemingly ignorant to his son's disinterest, began babbling eagerly, "You know the Reeds son? They own the publishing company who recently had a big boom in sales. They were even in the papers because of it!"

Arthur hummed a noise of agreement. There hadn't been anything to agree with though. His gaze was elsewhere. His attention was elsewhere.

Miss Reed picked at her dress worriedly- most unladylike. She looked between father and son, one bored and one ecstatic. She felt rather awkward.  
In an attempt to draw his interest back the girl stumbled over her words, "Ah-um...This is quite the magnificent party!"

"Yes, quite. If you will excuse me." Arthur had begun to move before he had even finished his reply. He slipped away from the conversation, treading purposefully through the crowds of the rich and influential. His eyes were fixed on a point- a man- at the opposite end of the hall. He was by the food. Arthur could barely suppress a snort. Well of course _he_ would be by the food.

With swift steps he approached the man's broad back and leaned dangerously close to his ear to whisper. "Don't think I wouldn't notice you taking your picking from the deserts."

The man jumped, snapping to attention. "I-I was just checking their suitability for the guests sir! I wasn't doing anything bad! Honest to God, I would never ever-oh...Arthur! Why'd you go sneaking up on me like that? I haven't even got to try the chocolate ones yet!"

Arthur's expression was that of a wry little smirk. He was always deeply amused when teasing Alfred. That mortified look on his face- perfect.

"I'll have you know my father paid good money for this food." He said in a ostensibly stern tone, though Alfred could hear the laughter hidden behind the solemnity.

"All these rich folk haven't even touched the food. I should know; I've been manning this area all evening-"

"I'm sure you have..." Arthur muttered tetchily, though his eyes crinkled affectionately.

Alfred continued, choosing to ignore the jibe, "-and by eating I'm doing you a favour. Nobody else would be eating it otherwise. It would go to waste!"

"Hmm, yes. You have made a valid point." Arthur found it hard not to grin. "But I hope you remember that this food is most definitely off limits to servants. If my father finds out you'll most likely be punished."

Alfred's face slips back into alarm. "You wouldn't do that! Would you?" His tone turned doubtful when he saw Arthur's sly mask of severity. "H-hey, Iggy...you wouldn't, right?"

Arthur didn't falter. Alfred panicked. "No! Please don't! I'll do anything! Just don't tell him; I'll be out on the street!"

"Well, I suppose my father doesn't have to hear of this discrepancy. I on the other hand cannot overlook this. I'm afraid the task of punishment falls to me."

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**Like it? Yay or nay?**

**Chapters will probably be short like this to start with and get longer in the more intense areas. I don't know if I'll have any other actual Hetalia characters apart from England and America yet.**

**But really the one thing I want to tell you about this fic is to not take it at face value. This is not some ordinary USUK...but I'm not revealing anything! Ask no questions and you shall receive no answers.**

**Don't have your mind set on a certain ending because I have a lot of twists in plot and drama llama attacks planned.**


	2. Behind Closed Doors

**~Water Reeds~**

**Behind Closed Doors**

* * *

**22nd of March, 1909**

"Whoa! That was some punishment!" Alfred exclaimed, settling himself against Arthur and pulling up the tangled sheets to cover them.

"I was lenient. You won't get off so easily next time."

Alfred chuckled into Arthur's hair, tickling his scalp. He gave Alfred a light whack on the arm but wasn't very vigorous about it. He hadn't minded it really- he only hit him out of force of habit.

They settled into a comfortable quiet which was quite unusual for someone like Alfred. In moments like this though, he kept to silence. The enjoyment of each other's warm embrace was enough for the both of them.

Even so, Alfred couldn't help but verbalise his thoughts when they occurred.

"You know, intercourse feels more like praise than punishment."

Arthur looked to his lover with raised eyebrows, lips pursed into an exasperated line.

"Oh, right. Heh, I kind'a ruined the moment there, didn't I?" He grinned brightly and Arthur couldn't help to return his own- grudgingly of course.

"Don't worry about it. I should be leaving now anyway." Removing himself from both the sheets and Alfred's arms, Arthur got off the bed. He immediately missed the warmth of contact when the cold morning air hit his bare body. He rubbed at his arms a little as he felt hairs begin to rise up along his skin. He had a definite need for clothes.

Whilst Arthur stooped to pick his rumpled shirt from the floor he sensed eyes following his backside. He flushed indignantly and snapped at Alfred, briskly pulling on his trousers. "Stop looking!"

"Why? I've seen you naked lots of times before."

"Yes, well..." Arthur fumbled for a reply. Unable to think of something suitable, he settled for a prickly exclamation. "Just stop looking!"

"Alright, alright." He said sulkily and averted his eyes. "Tell me when I can look."

The suit jacket was shrugged on, but his tie was left slung around his neck untied. "You can look."

Alfred brought his gaze back to admire Arthurs's dishevelled look- so unlike his usual spruce appearance. He laughed. "Not quite as debonair as last night."

"You're the one to blame for that."

"I wasn't the one who suggested this. If I remember correctly you were the one to take me away from the delicious strawberry tarts last night and led me to the guest bedrooms."

Arthur glowered at Alfred for prevailing this time around. Admittedly Alfred often managed to do this, often without realising it. Arthur sometimes ended up scrambling in conversations for retorts with Alfred. When they were alone like this he could become flustered far too easily. He tried so hard to remain composed, in control, but his petulant personality emerged from its shell to rear its ugly head. His mind would go blank and he had to resort to snapping at people, at Alfred. Though those he was closer to knew it was just his way of showing affection (along with keeping his pride).

So when the opportunity arose for Arthur to be the one teasing and winning he snatched it up. He had enjoyed last night.

With a huff he marched to the door but paused before leaving, with his hand settled on the mahogany. "Uh...Will you tidy the room Alfred? It won't look very good if it's left like this...too many awkward questions."

"Yes, sir. Now get your hoity-toity rear end out of here so I can clean." Arthur was pushed out into the hall.

He let out an affronted cry. "Alfred!"

But the door had already closed and muffled snickering could be heard from behind it.

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**I just ate a whole packet of rich tea biscuits while writing this...Oh goodness XD**


	3. Time and Place

**~Water Reeds~**

**Time and Place**

* * *

"You were very disrespectful to Miss Reed last night. You left us so abruptly. And then you disappeared from the party completely. What in God's name were you doing? Off gallivanting with young girls no doubt."

"Something like that..." Arthur mumbled, looking away from his father and choosing instead to look out the window. He watched a sleek black carriage trundle past, bouncing slightly over the unsoiled cobbled road. There were no beggars or streetwalkers here, the residents of the area made sure of that.

"Really Son! There is a time and a place for that but last night certainly was not."

Arthur muttered something about not meaning to be gone for so long and his father sighed. "I was a young lad too once. I know sometimes when faced with an...indulgence it's hard to stand firm. I had had many scandalous adventures before marriage, none of which reached your mother's ears- thank goodness- but when it came to duty I refrained from such acts. And last night...that was a night of duty. Fortunately, nothing has gone awry for now but remember your vigilance in future. From this moment on know the time and place."

Arthur knew about his father's 'scandalous adventures' and he had certainly not needed to be reminded. The thought of his father comparing his youth to him now made Arthur want to scoff. He left Mr Kirkland's comments as they were though; he instead inquired, "What duty are you talking of, Father?"

"You will work it out for yourself soon enough. But for now let us move ourselves to the drawing room; we shall be receiving guests any minute."

"Why?"

"Business, son. Business."

"Oh. Of course. And my presence is necessary?"

"Your presence is mandatory. You will one day inherit all that is mine; it is good to become used to these meetings now. Besides, this meeting is of particular importance."

Arthur wondered what could be so important that his presence was necessary. He had never been obligated to go before. Of course his father had made valiant efforts to achieve Arthur's presence at these occasions but generally his son had an aversion to the more tedious responsibilities, much preferring to spend his time 'in the midst of pleasure'. So true the phrase his father liked to use was Arthur often had to hide a smirk at its mention, however if his father ever discovered that the 'indulgence' was much less cockeyed girls as to a particularly dashing American servant (in _their_ hire) he would surely die of heart failure. The shocking truth would only ever be made worse in the knowledge that it was Mr Kirkland himself who had decided to employ Alfred F. Jones while his son had at first been completely against the idea. How utterly deplorable it would be to find out that he was the one who had ultimately decided his son's sexuality, quite unknowingly. Arthur relished that thought; it would be the only piece of salvation if his father was ever to find out, and Arthur would make quite sure it would never come to that.

Now it may seem like Arthur did not love his father, and to speak truthfully, he didn't.

Not that he hated him either. He just wasn't overly fond of the man. He never had been. Ever since he was a young boy it had been that way. Maybe in the first few years of life he had been rather partial to his father's presence; he had been the man to take him to his first concert at the Royal Albert Hall, taught him the importance of being a devoted patriot, and showed him how to be a proper gentleman. He missed those days of naivety.

It had been the week following his sixth birthday when he had caught wind of his father's surreptitious ventures. The excuse 'she was just brushing some dust from my shoulder' was hardly believable (even for a child). The red faces, the close proximity, the disgustingly virtuous grin that had been slapped on his face the moment he had noticed his son standing in the doorway- it had been enough for Arthur to realise his father was not the man he had believed him to be. The talks he had given him about responsibility and honour seemed so much duller the moment Arthur had seen Mr Kirkland fumbling with a loose belt buckle and the slapdash straightening of his necktie. His credulity had been lost that day, along with respect for his father.

It was then that Arthur spent much more time with his mother who, regretfully, he hadn't spent too much time with before then. She had always seemed so cold and brusque to Arthur that he had struggled to find comfort around her. He had always wanted attention and adoration as a child which he had received from his father in ample amounts; he and the strange women had always doted on him.

A new light had been shed on the lady who brought him into the world. Arthur could quite understand the reason for her indifferent manner now. With a husband off with other women all the time, still thinking his wife had no idea about it, Mrs Kirkland made a tactical decision in distancing herself from others.

The day Arthur had confronted his mother about her husband a shrewd merciless smile appeared on her face- the first sign of enjoyment he had seen her display in a long time. She edged forward so that she was perched on the edge of the garden seat and placed her embroidery down. She patted the space beside her. The young boy picked himself up off the grass, eyeing his mother's peculiar expression cautiously, and sat. She took his small hands into her own, looking him dead in the eye as she spoke, "So you have finally realised the truth of this world. It is not quite as beautiful and wonderful as you imagined it to be, is it?"

Arthur shook his head.

"What do you think of your father now Arthur?" She asked, almost sounding eager, expectant...excited?

Arthur's young face took on a scowl. "He's a pig."

His mother actually bit out a laugh. It was sharp and bark-like from its lack of use. "He is, isn't he? Yes, a pig! A pig!" She laughed again, a mordant twinkle to her eye.

Arthur thought his mother looked rather silly and giggled. He was beginning to like this side of her. He wanted her to laugh more, be it at his father's expense. "Yes, he's a stupid piggy!" He continued the joke by make pig noises which his mother found incredibly amusing. She laughed and laughed, and the sound became sweeter every time.

He had spent many a time sitting comfortably with his mother, tucked away in musky libraries or in the far reaches of the rose garden, ridiculing his father. His use of sarcasm had developed quite nicely in her presence as well a love for literature and a cynical outlook on life. It was from his mother that he learnt the wit and smarts his father would never have been able to teach. His head was far too swollen for that. But his mother, Mrs Kirkland, she gave her son awareness. It was a gift far more important than any toy his father had given.

Mr Kirkland walked his son to the drawing room with an unusual bounce to his step. It was a clear give away to Arthur that he was excited, excited for what he didn't know. Knowing his father was so jolly only served to heighten his curiosity. "Who are the guests, father?"

"You'll see!" He replied cheerily.

Arthur huffed. He didn't like all these secrets.

When the drawing room door was opened Arthur was exceedingly shocked to see his mother sitting neatly upon a cushioned chair, he was even more shocked to see a charming grin upon her face- it looked like she had just been caught in the middle of laughter. She turned to her son as she heard the door open and at once Arthur could see that the look of amusement was a facade. Her tone was sickly-sweet as she addressed her husband, "Dear, our guests are here."

"Already?" Mr Kirkland passed his son and ventured into the room. "Ah, so they are! I'm incredibly sorry for our lateness. I had to go find my son. He's always managing to find some new spot to tuck himself into." His father let out a chortle, moving out of his line of sight, presumably to greet the visitors.

Arthur felt a mixture confusion and wariness. It was a miracle to get him to attend something like this but his mother's presence was unexplainable. She would probably prefer to be trampled by a herd of cows rather than involve herself with her partner's business. There was also the added fact that business tended to be conducted between men, women seldom involved. Why was his mother here?

"Arthur? Come in son." His father called him. He spoke again, most likely to the guests, "Aw, he must be feeling shy."

He looked at his mother. Her expression was unreadable. She held eye contact with him, clearly trying to tell him something, but unfortunately Arthur could not work out the meaning of her gaze. The only way to understand the situation would be to just go along with it.

He entered the room.

"Son, do you remember Miss Eleanor Reed?"

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**Thanks to saphirice and the guest who reviewed. I'm glad you liked it. Thank you for the follows too. **

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	4. In Your Eyes I See Dead Love

**~Water Reeds~**

**In Your Eyes I See Dead Love**

* * *

They had talked of weather, parties and business. They talked in pleasantries and implied money matters. The proposition itself was talked of little- only mentioned once- but after an approving nod from both Mr Kirkland and Mr Reed the deal was sealed. In just a nod of the head Arthur Kirkland was to be betrothed to Eleanor Reed.

After the meeting Arthur left calmly. He had left with a smile and with a laugh, as did his mother. Out of the presence of others his steps became brisk, the happiness gone. He strode down the hallway, his mother hot on his heels. A murderous expression claimed his face and his skin became hot with rage.

"How dare he!" He slammed the library door open with such force it had the potential to fly off its hinges. His mother hung back by the doorway, watching him stomp around the room with a grim look upon her face.

Arthur paced back and forth growling and muttering under his breath for a few minutes before reaching his limit. His anger burst forth and he lashed out, kicking at his mother's worn armchair she often read on. His foot travelled straight through the fabric covering the side of the seat, creating a large hole.

"Bugger!" Arthur cursed as he reeled back, hissing in pain. For a moment he was too preoccupied with his throbbing toes to realize what he had just done but once he did he span to face his mother, his face morphing into one of guilt. "Mother, I..."

He knew the armchair had some kind of sentimental value to her. She had once mentioned that her Uncle Russell had given it to her- the man who had apparently travelled all over the world. He was treated as a bit of a mad man by the family but Arthur's mother had always spoke quite fondly of him and Arthur knew it most definitely meant something when she spoke fondly of someone. He had never even heard her speak that fondly of himself so Uncle Russell must have been a great man.

He could only watch in silence as his mother stepped past him to inspect the chair, unable to summon any form of apology. She crouched by the hole and ran her fingers along the damaged material. She took her time in getting up (all the while keeping her back turned to Arthur). When she was once again upright he heard the smallest of sighs pass her lips before she faced him again.

She spoke to him as she always did, seemingly unfazed by the matter. Arthur knew better. "Let us talk in the Rose garden. It seems I will not be able to make use of this room for some time yet. I'll have to get Jones on it."

They travelled to the garden without much thought to which turns they should make in the expansive halls of their home. Arthur knew this route as well as the back of his hand. The number of times he had escaped his father by scampering off to the gardens was far too many to count. The idea of escape was used by his mother too- who also enjoyed the solitude the secluded rose garden supplied. They enjoyed the isolation together.

Quite gracefully his mother took up her usual space on the white bench and patted the spot beside her, much like she had done so many years ago. Arthur complied with little hesitation, joining her on the seat, mouth still set in an uncomfortable frown.

Arthur was waiting for his mother to speak which took some time. She let the silence drag on for a while, the only sound permeating the air being the occasional chirp of a bird and the rustle of leaves. Eventually she began in a solid-sounding voice yet she did not look at her son as she spoke. Her eyes were steely, fixed dead ahead, staring intently at the sparrows that fluttered and splashed in the bird bath.

"I wish to tell you about when I married your father."

Arthur, who had also been watching the birds, snapped to face his mother. He had not been expecting her to say that. He had never expected to hear about this particular part of his mother's life, especially not from his mother herself.

"I was very young- younger than you now. I was younger than the Reed girl. It was arranged by my parents without my knowledge. I thought it was coincidence that your father and I always attended the same parties, gatherings, social functions... And when he asked to dance with me or wanted to walk with me or steal a kiss by the fountain I thought that was all him. I thought he did that all on his own initiative. So when he eventually proposed I thought that too was his own imitative- his own love. But it was all set up. Your grandparents were scheming fiends Arthur. They were so clever about it but also so cruel."

Arthur was shocked. What was he hearing? These were his mother's innermost thoughts and feelings. They were not something she told people about- even him.

"Do you now the worse part Arthur?" He shook his head. She smiled ruefully at him. "I fell in love with him along the way. He was rather dashing back in the day and quite the charmer, and I... I was a silly frivolous girl. Foolish."

He really didn't know what to say. Was he even meant to say anything? Somehow that didn't seem wise. His mother was not one to be comforted by a pat on the back or some feeble words. Yet he wanted to do something- he couldn't bare hearing about this. He didn't want to hear about the events that changed his mother irrevocably. He found himself worrying her words may push him to hate his father, alike the hatred she felt. No matter how much he loved his mother Arthur did not wish to become like her. He was already halfway there and was unwilling to be pushed off the edge into the dark pit of detestation.

He thought of Alfred. He forced his smiling face to appear in his mind, to let it engulf him, to drown out the abhorrence.

"He will try the same thing with you Arthur." His mother continued gravely, gazing down with empty eyes at the golden strip wrapped around her ring finger. "He learnt many things from your grandparents. He will make it happen again since it worked so well the first time. You will be him and she will be me. You have to trick Eleanor Reed."

* * *

**I made this short just to keep the cogs turning in my brain for this story. I need to keep it in motion!**


	5. Bittersweet

**~Water Reeds~**

**Bittersweet**

* * *

**28****th**** of April, 1909**

A surprise visit from Miss Reed- _ha_- maybe surprise for her. Arthur had known about it for a solid week, a solid week of his father drilling the 101 most charming lines to win over a woman's heart. Mr Kirkland didn't explicitly mention this advice was intended for Eleanor Reed but Arthur could pretty much gather that was his intent. The instant Arthur had found out about the upcoming visit his father had been tailing him around with a new tale prepared every day and slipping tips into meal time conversations. It was thoroughly annoying.

Even more annoying was the fact that his father had no tact to give the female counselling while nobody else was around. Arthur felt awful for those who had to endure this along with him. The withering facial expressions of the household staff had him covertly apologising after dinner. Alfred on the other hand thought it was hilarious. Arthur doubted he would find it half as amusing if he realized his lover was actually expected to use the advice within little under a week's time to impress his future wife.

Arthur had yet to tell Alfred about the arranged marriage- he really wasn't sure how he could break such news. But he was determined to throw the betrothal somehow. He couldn't possibly marry this girl. It was out of the question. He didn't know her for starters and he certainly didn't love her. How parents could just lump their children together and expect them to get along was beyond his understanding. And the fact it had all been done behind Miss Reed's back- it was appalling. Where was her say in this? Better yet, where was his say?"

So the day of Miss Reed's visit came and the house was in turmoil- maids running about left right and centre dusting and polishing every inch of the manor. Mr Kirkland even set a few of them on his son to "spruce him up" as he so very nicely put it. But quickly enough the maids were chased out of his room by Mrs Kirkland who informed her son that she would be retiring to her room today for she was feeling under the weather, despite looking entirely healthy. _Sneaky bugger_.

How Arthur wished he too could pretend to be ill but he was quite sure his father would send him to greet Miss Reed anyway- most likely with two cotton buds shoved up his nose.

She arrived with a 'few' relatives- mostly female- and some Arthur's own relatives also made an appearance- mostly female. It was so like older women to watch the development of 'young love' like it was a living romance novel. He could hear their chatter from half way across the garden, which was saying something as it was quite a large garden. Their constant cooing and giggling was beginning to grate on Arthur's nerves. With gritted teeth he tried to ignore the blatant cries of "They look so lovely together!" and turned back to his current company who he had been instructed to tour around the garden.

"If you follow me this way you can see the rose garden."

Arthur began to march in the direction of the more secluded area in the garden before Miss Reed had even answered- hoping to evade their aggravating relatives."Oh, o-okay!" She hurried after him, struggling to meet the pace of his long strides.

"Um..." She began, nervously eyeing his scowl. "Are you feeling well?"

"I feel like a caged animal at the zoo with all these nattering women around." Arthur growled, throwing himself upon his favourite white bench- the spot being one of comfort to him.

Miss Reed obviously had not expected such a frank answer and especially not such a harsh one at that. People often brushed over feelings with flowery words and sugar smiles. That is what Arthur would normally do but today was not a good day.

She stuttered as she gave him an earnest apology. "I-I'm sorry for my family! I hadn't expected so many to be accompanying me..."

She looked sad. What had he done? Arthur was suddenly dreadfully aware he had come across very rude and it went against every gentlemanly bone in his body. Although it did seem to be a wonderful method to have his betrothal cancelled. But then the engagement would probably go ahead anyway. What would her parents care if their soon to be son-in-law was somewhat mean to their daughter? Friendly teasing they would call it.

Miss Reed seemed terribly upset. She didn't dare to look at Arthur, instead choosing to observe the fauna. What if she started to cry? Arthur could not handle a crying girl. He had to salvage this situation somehow.

Keeping his gaze fixed firmly upon the floor, unwilling to face the embarrassment of actually looking at her, Arthur plucked a rose from a bush and held it before Miss Reed. "Out of all the roses here you are the loveliest..." Arthur mumble, struggling to keep a grimace off his face. That line was far too ridiculous but his father seemed to have liked it- he could see him nodding approvingly from behind a nearby tree. Arthur scowled at him and made a discreet shooing motion.

Eleanor Reed took the rose gingerly, a bewildered look sweeping across her face. "Oh...Thank you. That was, uh, sweet of you to say."

"You can sit down if you want..."

She sat beside him with another quiet "thank you", her cheeks beginning to colour.

They sat like that for some time, attempting to make conversation, many long and awkward silences between topics. Both were reluctant to return to the company of their families however so neither could breech the discomfort by going on another walk. Arthur was saved when Alfred arrived to inform them it was time for Miss Reed to leave- apparently she had a visit to her grandmother's house planned.

Arthur bid her goodbye, feeling somewhat self-conscious now Alfred was watching. She smiled at him, face glowing. "We must do this again some time."

"Yes, we must."

After she was gone he turned to Alfred with a smile that faltered when he saw the butler's frown- the type of frown he knew was used when Alfred was trying/struggling to work something out.

"What was that?" He asked, pointing to the bench.

"What was what?"

"That!" He gestured again.

"What?"

"You were being so nice to her!"

"Well of course I was being nice to her. What did you expect me to do? Spit in her face?"

"No, that's not-" He stopped himself, taking a deep breath before asking, "Arthur, be honest with me... Do you like her?"

Arthur was so surprised by the sudden question he was stunned into silence. He knew what the implication of 'like' was in this case. How could Alfred come to that conclusion? Thinking he liked someone he hardly knew? That he was suddenly interested in women after everything he had told him, everything they had done.

"Do you not like me anymore?" He wrung his hands anxiously as he spoke, "I mean, I understand if that's the case, cause our relationship is kind'a strange really, and if you only wanted to be with me for a little while that's fine too. I'm alright with-"

"Shut up for a minute you blooming idiot!" Arthur grabbed a fistful of Alfred's crisp white shirt, effectively wrinkling his work clothes- clothes that were not meant to be wrinkled. But he cared little for the presentation of his butler at that moment.

"No, I do not like her." He told him firmly, making sure Alfred looked him in the eye. "And no, I still like you."

"But all the ladies were talking about you being a great couple and how beautiful your kids would be!"

Arthur blanched at the thought of it. "No, no... That's just them fantasising." With a nervous chuckle he told his lover a lie; it came to his lips as easy as it was a lie to his father, his mother, everyone and anyone but Alfred. But now he believed there was not a single person he knew he had not told a lie to. He felt something inside him turn cold. "They were just here to increase business relations."

"So you still like me?"

"Yes," Arthur pulled Alfred against him and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, "I still like you."

The kiss was bittersweet.


	6. Squiffy

**~Water Reeds~**

**Squiffy**

* * *

**2nd of July, 1909**

"Ask her to dance, my boy!"

Mr Kirkland had taken up position beside Arthur in the hopes of further spurring on his master plan to marry off his son. He had been badgering Arthur to take Miss Reed for a dance for most of the evening, following him all around the ball room. From conversation to conversation the older man had been tagging after him like a begging dog. Arthur had grown tired of trying to avoid his father so he resigned himself to sitting down and to simply endure the pestering for the rest of the night.

With a jovial nudge to Arthur's side his father continued to urge, "Come on, one little dance Arthur."

"I will not ask her to dance." Arthur whispered furiously through gritted teeth. His father really was getting on his nerves. He wished he could have followed his mother out earlier, who called a carriage to take her home after claiming the bright lights were making her dizzy. _Sneaky bugger. _How she could keep getting away with her faux sickness Arthur had not a clue, even if she was a terribly good actor. It seemed Arthur would have to brush up on his skills.

"Why not? She's right there for the taking!" Mr kirkland cried, sloshing brandy down his front.

"Don't say that." Arthur grumbled. The way his father said things often left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"But she is!" His father enthused and cupped a hand around his mouth conspiratorially. "If I were you I would make a move now before another man sweeps her off her feet." Another wink and nudge to his son's side followed for good measure.

"Please stop with this, father."

"Aww, don't be a spoil sport. Are you feeling shy again? You're a good dancer Arty-"

"Don't call me Arty."

"-Maybe a little rusty, but I'm sure you will get the hang of it if you just get up and- Oh look, your cousin Bonnie!" Mr Kirkland called out to a girl with blazing red hair (like most of the people on his father's side of the family). He could not believe his father could call out to this girl- this hot-blooded, hormone driven, Guinness guzzling girl. She was the living incarnation of the devil! Arthur was certain of it. "Bonnie, my dear! Over here!"

Arthur's jaw dropped as his father summoned this beast over. Cousin Bonnie was his crazy Irish relative who, at first, had a childish infatuation with him. Arthur would strut about like a peacock at the thought of being at the centre of someone's attention and had used this to his benefit, ordering her about and asking for complements. It had been that way since they were very small. However, at the age of eleven, she snapped. It had been one order too many. She had taken Arthur's hand into her own, a sweet smile on her face, and then whispered in his ear, "I hate you Arthur Kirkland so don't be surprised if you wake up tomorrow morning without a cock."

Arthur had been so shocked by the vulgarity and malice from this innocent little girl- directed at him, her object of idol- he had run away crying to his mother. She had reminded him of how she had always told him he would rue the day he meddled with a girl's emotions as he sobbed into her skirt. "Let that be a lesson to you Arthur." She had said.

Well now he was jumping from the frying pan and into the fire, messing with a girl's emotions all over again. He only had room for so many crazy women in his life. Arthur doubted he could cope with an infuriated Miss Reed too.

But for now he had to worry about Bonnie. That girl was deranged and extremely hot-blooded (a well established trait of the Kirkland family). If her volatile nature was anything to go by she would surely be itching to partake in a 'friendly' dance with him and then castrate him in the larder later that night.

That thought alone had him springing to his feet like he had been sitting on hot coals. He fled across the hall before Bonnie could abduct him for the night.

"Miss Reed," He stopped in front of Eleanor Reed, panting slightly from the sudden burst of exercise. He lowered himself into an unsteady bow and offered a hand to the girl. "Could I have this dance?"

Caught by surprise in the middle of a conversation with her sister, she turned to him. She blinked at him in confusion, staring in a silent disorientation. Arthur threw a glance over his shoulder and to his utmost alarm saw a thick head of red curls weaving their way through a crowd of partygoers.

Arthur could almost feel Bonnie's presence pulsing against his back. In growing agitation he decided he couldn't wait for Miss Reed to get over her stupefaction or else he would be at the mercy of the Irish menace. Arthur snatched up Miss Reed's hand and dragged her out into the thick of the waltzing couples, ignoring her yelp of astonishment.

They began their dance, cottoning onto the pace quickly seeing that both were well versed in formal dances. They travelled in loops around the ballroom, Arthur distractedly so. He hardly paid any heed to his dance partner- not while he was checking if Bonnie was still on his trail.

Miss Reed cleared her throat, drawing his attention back.

Arthur jerked in fright. He quickly became conscious that his hands were held against a meek brunette rather than a fiery red head. He looked to Miss Reed, rather flustered. "Forgive me, I'm somewhat unfocused tonight."

She smiled, sensing his anxiousness, and spoke genially. "You know, it surprised me to see you at the zoo last week. To think we would manage to visit on the same day. We have seen an awful lot of each other as of recent, haven't we? You might as well be stalking me." She laughed to herself but almost instantly stopped as she saw Arthur's glower.

Her eyes went wide and her tone was panicked. "Oh, no- I didn't mean to- I mean, I apologise. That sounded terrible. I do not mean to sound like I am accusing you, or joking about serious things like stalking and whatnot..."

Arthur knew then she had mistaken his expression for disapproval of her teasing when, in actual fact, it was because she had hit rather close to home. In truth he was stalking her. He could not find any other label for it. This was stalking- instructed stalking maybe, but it was still stalking.

"It is not a bad thing we have seen a lot of each other!" She exclaimed unexpectedly and quickly looked away in embarrassment. "I-I quite enjoy spending time with you really..."

She was blushing, stuttering, making love-sick expressions (or at least expressions of starting to like him in some romantic sense). His father's plan was working far too well and far too quickly. Keen to steer the conversation away from any feelings Miss Reed might be feeling for him he hastily changed the subject. "So you said you were at the zoo for your sister's birthday." He said, remembering the mention of it last week.

"Oh, yes!" Surprisingly she leapt upon the change of topic. "She loves animals and all things exotic so I begged papa to take us, as a treat."

"Is it just you and your sister then? No other siblings?" Arthur asked. He had always been quite interested at the idea of siblings, seeing as he had always been an only child. He was jealous of Miss Reed truth be told.

"A brother too but he is too young to be attending parties like these, despite adamantly wanting to." She let out another burble of laughter. She seemed to be reminded of something. Perhaps a cherished memory, a joke shared with herself. Arthur wondered what it was.

"You are in a particularly good mood." Arthur remarked, taking note of her constant grin, teeth and all.

Her mouth parted for a moment as if someone had just raised a mirror before her, as if she only knew her own happiness once it was pointed out. "Uh-Just squiffy." She explained hastily and Arthur saw her cheeks flush again. He hoped it was just the merriment colouring her face. "I am afraid I have let myself get carried away with the drink. I can still think straight though, unlike some here. I am not half as bad as my papa is." She nodded towards a lanky man, strawberry blonde whiskers sprouting from his face in tufts and a receding hair line. Mr Patrick Reed, Arthur remembered him to be. Somehow he had found Mr Kirkland. Now they both sat slapping their knees boisterously.

"Or my father." He added dryly.

"Oh, they will regret it come morning."

"They will be left in bed with a sorry headache."

"I was thinking more of the gossip." Miss Reed gave her head a dismayed shake. "People love to talk about people, especially after the said people have had a night of drinking in the public eye. It gives a very exciting new pool of rumours to fish out at dinner time."

"My family's pool of rumours is already large enough."

Miss Reed grimaced and she scrambled to apologise, blushing profusely. She had hit a sore spot there. No doubt she already knew the extensive rumours about his family that circulated through the upper class of society. There were always whispers of the Kirklands, no matter where you went.

With a reclusive wife who subtly offended the prestigious ladies of society on the rare occasion she had ventured out of the manor (and appeared to thoroughly enjoy their outrage), a son who had yet to take an interest in any woman (brushing off any clamouring female), and Mr Kirkland himself seemingly ignorant of how to behave sensibly, of course there was to be chitchat about them. However the Kirklands were far too rich for anybody want to do any damage to them, for fear of inspiring the wrath of someone who could probably by out their entire residence ten times over and still have money to spare. But they still talked, if not in spite then to quench their thirst for scandal. To Arthur's annoyance the only Kirkland affected by their talk was himself. Mr Kirkland would be unaware even if a rumour was being shouted into his ear and Mrs Kirkland really did not care for tittle-tattle.

"Oh, I've done it again," She cried dejectedly as the dance ended, letting her arms fall to her sides. She briskly took off across the room and Arthur pursued, rather alarmed by her sudden exclamation.

He followed her all the way to a quieter corner of the hall, away from the throngs of merry men and squawking women. She threw herself down into a chair besides her sister- who threw her a baffled look- and patted the cushion of another seat, a space for Arthur. He took the seat nervously.

"Nora, what are you-"

Miss Reed's sister was cut off when a hand was thrown in front of her face. "I am sorry Stella but not right now." Miss Reed snatched her glass of wine, downing it in one.

Miss Reed turned on Arthur now, a single-minded look upon her face. "I am sorry to you too, Arthur-"

"Arthur?" He exclaimed, shocked by the sudden lack of formalities. It seemed Miss Reed's sister Stella was just as taken aback.

Miss Reed continued on determinedly. "I am afraid I will always be making a fool of myself in front of you. I cannot help it!" Maybe she was more than just squiffy. How much had she had to drink? Arthur sent panicked looks at Stella Reed. She could only offer him an uneasy shrug.

_Oh dear God, _Arthur thought in horror. _A confession. This is a confession. She's already fallen for me!_ He sat with clenched teeth, waiting for her to continue. He couldn't manage a declaration of love. Not here. Not now. Not at a party and with her sister sitting a few feet away.

What was he meant to do? Act happy for the sake of their betrothal, so there would be no sourness in marriage, so he didn't end up like his parents? Or should he cast her aside in the hopes there would be no marriage?

"I want to tell you now Arthur, that you have very pretty eyes and-"

"I would like to stop you there, Miss Reed. I think you have had too much to drink." He moved to usher her away, "I will call a carriage to take you home."

"Eleanor!" She cried, shrugging Arthur off. "My name is Eleanor and you might as well start using it!"

"That would be improper. I couldn't-"

"Shush now, let me finish please." Arthur fell silent immediately. "You have very pretty eyes and you seem to be a lovely person, while that may be, I do not love you. I am sorry if you have taken an interest in me but I can never think of you in such a way. I want to be friends with you however, so when I marry you we can be happy and not miserable. I have seen it before- people who hate each other marrying. It is not at all pretty. Listen to me when I say-Oh... Stella, Stella... I don't feel too well." Leaning against her sister Eleanor seemed to wilt. Yes, Eleanor. Eleanor she had wished to be called. Arthur struggled to call her that.

Stella sat in a daze, he sister sagging into her arms. "She appears to have fainted."

"Indeed." Arthur drawled. He was beginning to feel the effects of the demon drink working on him now. His head was pounding. Or possibly he was just struggling to cope with what he had heard. It had been a confession, not of the sorts he was expecting however.

Arthur had just been effectively confined to friendship by his future wife. Was it strange for him to be extremely happy about that?

He looked to Stella with a raised eyebrow. "So she knew about the betrothal?"

She nodded. "She overheard mama explaining it to me."

"I see."

Stella licked her lips, her features twisting into something fretful and guilty. With one hand stroking her sister's hair and the other linked into Eleanor's, she asked in a murmur, "This isn't going to change anything, is it?"

Arthur sighed and ran a weary hand over his eyes. He suddenly felt very old- a new kind of responsibility filling him. It must be acceptance. How very mature of him. "I doubt it."

"Good," He could tell Stella appreciated his rationality, "Marriage will be good for her. And there is no chance of her doing better than you, as there is no one better than you."

Stella saw Arthur's smirk and added with a meaningful look, "Supposedly. Don't let the rumour mill go to your head."

On that same night, coming from her sister no less, there was mention of gossip again. Arthur felt bitter. "Believe me, I try not to."

She gave a wry understanding smile then Stella was looking away, flagging down a tall man with a dark bushy moustache. The man saw Eleanor slumped against Stella. Even from here Arthur could see his jaw drop. Evidently Eleanor Reed was not one to drink. Perhaps she had not encountered alcohol before in such...abundance. She was only seventeen after all, two years younger than Arthur. She would have only just have started to venture out into society.

"I should get my sister home. She has had a long, exciting day." Stella stood up, heaving her sister along with her.

"Do you need any help?" It was a reluctant offer on his part but he would feel guilty if he left this woman to haul Eleanor away in her half-conscious state.

"No," She sighed, quite aware of Arthur's unwillingness. She motioned towards the same man from a moment ago, who was now hurrying towards them. "My husband can help today. But one day this will be your duty, understand me? You will look after her."

The intensity of her stare was again a reminder of his mother, Bonnie, Miss Eleanor Reed... _You will rue the day Arthur Kirkland_. He hoped he would be able to remain on Stella's good side. "I will."

* * *

**Squiffy. I love that word. That's a bit of older English slang for you there. I believe it means tipsy, in the process of becoming drunk.**

**I have a really bad feeling that there is some blazingly obvious grammatical issue I have skipped over. Please bare with it if there happens to be one.**


End file.
